No one spoke for a moment, and the silence was becoming awkward when Gus appeared in a rubber suit, bringing a book to Jack from Laura and a note to Jill from Lotty.
"Look here, you just trundle me into my den, please, I'm going to have a nap, it's so dull to-day I don't feel like doing much," said Jack, when Gus had done his errands, trying to look as if he knew nothing about the fracas.
Jack folded his arms and departed like a warrior borne from the battle-field, to be chaffed unmercifully for a "pepper-pot," while Gus made him comfortable in his own room.
"I heard once of a boy who threw a fork at his brother and put his eye out.

But he didn't mean to, and the brother forgave him, and he never did so any more," observed Jill, in a pensive tone, wishing to show that she felt all the dangers of impatience, but was sorry for the culprit.
"Did the boy ever forgive himself ?" asked Mrs.Minot.
"No, 'm; I suppose not.

But Jack didn't hit Frank, and feels real sorry, I know." "He might have, and hurt him very much.

Our actions are in our own hands, but the consequences of them are not.

Remember that, my dear, and think twice before you do anything." "Yes, 'm, I will;" and Jill composed herself to consider what missionaries usually did when the natives hurled tomahawks and boomerangs at one another, and defied the rulers of the land.
Mrs.Minot wrote one page of a new letter, then stopped, pushed her papers about, thought a little, and finally got up, saying, as if she found it impossible to resist the yearning of her heart for the naughty boy,-- "I am going to see if Jack is covered up, he is so helpless, and liable to take cold.